Courting Miss Kaoru
by Li Laine
Summary: He was Lord Kenshin Himura, and he landed, literally, in Kaoru Kamiya's life. With an unexpected proposal from him, Kaoru's ordered life is promptly thrown into chaos. Not the least of which, include being bodily dragged from her home.
1. The time read 10:01am

It was precisely 10:01am in the morning, when Kenshin Himura— Marquis of Darcia, fell through the roof.

He landed with a gut wrenching splatter on the floor of a humble abode, the wind knocked cleanly from his lungs. Through the resulting storm of dust and debris, he squinted up to find a pair of hovering blue eyes. It took him a moment to realize (he was not hereto familiar with this particular phenomenon), that the pair of eyes in question was flashing with anger at him.

He groaned.

The young woman, to whom the lovely eyes belonged, finally seemed to realize that the culprit who was responsible for demolishing half her home could have been hurt in his endeavors.

"I say--" She remarked inanely. "Are you alright?"

Kenshin Himura grunted, holding up the index finger of his right hand.

"If you would give me a moment mademoiselle." He gingerly fingered his ribs—sure that he had broken at least one or two. A good stretching of his legs happily indicated however, that neither were broken beyond repair.

Kaoru Kamiya, mistress of what had once been a very nice home, watched the sprawled man across her living room floor with wary eyes. In her hands, a well used broomstick was poised over her head ready to strike the man if he made any sudden maneuvers. Upon further observation, it was clear to her that the burglar was genuinely stunned from his fall. And it didn't take a great leap of imagination to conclude that this man clearly had no skill in his profession.

Kenshin Himura looked up at the girl, noticing the frayed broom in her hand—and the precarious way in which she held her weapon of choice.

"Beg pardon miss, what are you doing?"

Kaoru frowned at the man. Objectively speaking, he was one of the most beautiful male specimens she had every laid her eyes on. The morning glow streaming through the gaping hole in her roof cast the man in a spotlight that highlighted the high ends of his cheekbones. Under that same light, his hair was a fiery swirl of wine red. Kaoru Kamiya, in her impeccable good sense however, had never been one to be swayed by good looks.

"Do not attempt to be sociable you fiend." She said, waving her broom threateningly. "I know what you're up to, and you've been caught red handed."

Kenshin blinked up at her without comprehension.

"I beg your pardon?"

Kaoru glared, boring her eyes into the man's skull.

"Do not feign innocence; how naïve do you think I am that I would fall for your trickery?"

Kenshin blinked up at her, still not comprehending.

"Mademoiselle, I fell through your roof. I assure you, there's nothing tricky about that."

Kaoru snorted inelegantly.

"Except for the reason you were up on it in the first place." She snapped. "Though clearly you should choose a different profession because you're quite hopeless as a burglar."

The marquis' eyes widened perceptively. "WHAT?"

Kaoru stared down at him, her expression unchanging, as the cad tried to feign outrage and innocence. It was almost convincing, his complete look of horror at her suggestion he was involved with the nefarious arts of robbery. Perhaps the man should join a traveling show and become an actor, she thought spitefully. He would surely garner more money than his current profession.

Kenshin Himura, Marquis of Darcia narrowed his eyes and pierced the insolent woman with his best "I-am-the-marquis" glare. It was the same glare had hereto been quite successful in rendering the ton speechless and spluttering. So when he bit out—

"Mademoiselle, I am not a burglar."

He fully expected her to believe him. It wouldn't have hurt either, if she had nodded her agreement, put down her ridiculous broom, and apologize profusely for her erroneous judgment of his character. Thus Kenshin was baffled when quite the opposite happened.

The woman speared him with her most contemptible "ha!" A single word of disbelief that spoke volumes of her regard for his claim. Kenshin Himura, whom had never in his adult (or childhood) life had been spoken to in such a matter was rendered speechless. If she had been a man, he would have called her out on the spot. Unfortunately, she wasn't, so he could only console himself that glaring up at her on the ground was understandably less effective.

"If you aren't a burglar, then what were you doing sneaking up on my roof?" Kaoru demanded.

The man before her turned red; a reaction that suspiciously resembled embarrassment.

"I assure you, I was not sneaking." He muttered.

Something ticked in Kaoru's temple, and she said with a perfectly deadpanned face. "You have exactly three seconds to explain yourself sir, before I beat you into oblivion with my friend, the broomstick, here."

Kenshin choked, the molten gold of his eyes flying up to her face.

"You're threatening me." He said somewhat mystified.

Kaoru wanted to roll her eyes.

"Yes I'm threatening you. You break in to my house, albeit inelegantly, rob --beg pardon, _try_ to rob me. Naturally, the next step if you get caught, which you have, is the injured party's full right to threaten, maim, and or kill the guilty party."

Kenshin raised his brow at her matter of fact analysis, and Kaoru was sure that the shifting gleam in his eye could only be attributed to humor. By god, the blasted man was amused! He tilted his head, favoring her with a lazy smile.

"_I'm_ the injured party."

Kaoru was superbly proud of herself, that she didn't bat an eyelash. "I assure you, I can make it worse. Now, are you going to explain yourself? My patience is wearing thin."

"By god--" Kenshin exclaimed, aghast at her vehemence to do him bodily harm. "You really aren't a lady are you?"

Kaoru drew back, ridiculously stung by his callous remark. She gritted her teeth at him. "If you mean I haven't swooned at the sight of you, you can be reassured that I have no intentions to. Your explanation now please. And by now, I mean NOW."

Kenshin studied the agitated woman, noticing for the first time how very lovely she was despite her unladylike anger. A heavy sheen of black silk hung over her shoulders, and framed her heart shaped face. Long lashes incased her startling blue eyes that were still drilling contemptuously into him. A second look indicated however, that he would not gain her good graces for calling her beautiful at the moment. And perversely enough, he was mildly intrigued by her obvious loathing of him. Granted, being mistaken for a burglar did not cast him in a favorable light, though he was under the impression that most women found him appealing in any light.

So appealing in fact, it was for that exact reason he was in this awkward predicament at the moment. That, and the fact this girl did not have a very strong roof.

"If you must know," He said irritably. "I was trying to escape someone."

Kaoru blinked, regarding him with suspicion. It was on the tip of her tongue to flat out call him a liar before the door of her cottage blasted open with startling force. The locks which had been fastened in place, gave a screech of protest before it gave way, hanging uselessly on the door.

Kaoru let out a yelp, swirling in the moment to aim her broom at the new intruder, feeling only a little bit ridiculous considering the new fiend had kicked down her door.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the man's resigned shutting of his eyes—and wondered, for the first time, if he was really telling the truth. She was distracted however, by the form of a bouncing, red headed female.

"KENSHIN! I FOUND YOU!" The red headed bouncer gushed, flouncing into the room. She pointed her lace incased finger in Kenshin's general direction and happily announced. "Did you think you could hide from me?"

Kaoru watched Kenshin bodily resist the urge to play dead, and instead said without preamble.

"Yes."

Kaoru Kamiya flitted her eyes back and forth from the young woman whom had burst into her home, and the man whom had burst through her roof. She wasn't sure which one she wanted to maim more, but she was suddenly filled with an insane urge to laugh hysterically. It was either that or melt into a puddle and weep.

Her sloping roof—which had once boasted a good ten years of service laid in a hopeless disaster on her once immaculate floor. And her door! Her beautifully carved red wood door was hanging uselessly on its side.

All in all, her home looked as if some mythical giant had stepped on half of it.

"Misao!"

A dark haired man, whom was nearly as striking as the red haired one on the floor, came in through the open doorway.

"Didn't I tell you not to chase around his lordship?"

Kaoru flitted her eyes to the man on the ground in horror, the same instant he turned to her and flashed her a knowing grin.

The girl did not seem the least bit intimidated by the black haired man, or notice the subtle exchange between Kaoru and Kenshin, because she turned and jabbed her finger in the black haired man's face and declared.

"Aoshi Shinomori, you do NOT have the rights to tell a lady what to do."

His face darkened.

"Lady Makimachi…" He warned.

Misao Makimachi turned her head away from the man's glowering stare, instead noticing for the first time—a stunning black haired woman holding a broom over Kenshin's head as if she were in the midst of beheading him.

"HEY!" She screeched, suddenly incensed. "Are you hurting Kenshin?"

Her eyes darted to the wincing Kenshin sitting in the midst of the debris.

"Oh my god! What did you do to him?"

She turned a murderous glare in Kaoru's direction, so quelling that Kaoru nearly felt remorse for the sad state of the man sitting in the remains of her roof. It was quickly drowned out by Kaoru's own sense of injustice.

"I didn't do anything to him!"

The man known as Aoshi Shinomori, turned a quick look in Kenshin's direction and glanced up to the ceiling, or lack thereof.

"What is going on here?" He demanded, glancing around at the two people in the room.

Kaoru glared at all of them in turn. "Who are you people?"

A telling silence filled the room as the intruders looked at one another. Misao, suddenly sheepish, pointed to herself and said. "I am the Lady Makimachi, heiress to the Remling estate. And that man," She pointed to the tall man filling Kaoru's doorway, "Is Mr. Aoshi Shinomori. The constable of this region, and also my protector." She pointed again at Kenshin.

"And he is my fiancé."

Kaoru turned back to the red haired man on the floor, suddenly realizing just what it was that he had been trying to escape from. Apparently, he was not a thief, merely an errant husband-to-be running from his future wife. She did laugh then, earning her a disproving look from Kenshin. Had she been more observant, she might have noticed a sudden change in his demeanor. But since she did not know him well enough to notice his moods, she missed the telling signs of a plan being hatched and brought into action.

Kenshin stood slowly, drawing lazily to his full height with a feral grace. Prowling forward he snaked his hand around Kaoru's waist, pulling her to his side. The laughter died immediately upon Kaoru's lips as he turned in the same instant to Misao who was frowning in confusion.

"I'm afraid I couldn't possibly be your fiancé my lady. For you see, I'm already a taken man."

He smiled darkly, the hard slash of his mouth tilting to one side as Misao still stared at him curiously.

"You see, I have decided to marry this lovely lady here. She is my fiancé."

Kaoru whom had always thought of herself as a fairly intelligent, level headed individual, could not have described what had brought on her actions next. If she had been less confused, if her house had been in better shape, if strangers did not just kick down her front door—she might have not done what she did.

But they had.

And so, without preamble, Kaoru smashed the flat side of her broom across Kenshin Himura's face with all the strength she could muster.

In the next moment, amidst screams from Misao, Kaoru found herself bodily dragged from her house by the head of the guards, Aoshi Shinomori to destinations unknown. Though if Kaoru could surmise a guess, it would most likely be the constable station—in which case she would no doubt be hung for bodily injuring nobility.

It was, in her opinion, not a very good day. And it was only 10:43 in the morning.


	2. The time was twelve and thirty

It was 12:30 in the afternoon when Kaoru Kamiya was sentenced to death.

The man, whose name was Aoshi Shinomori, delivered the grim news to the young woman with all the alacrity of a weatherman predicting rainfall for the next two weeks. Needless to say, this proclamation did nothing for the young woman's composure as she sat white faced, staring into the hard and uncompromising face of the regent constable.

"There must be some mistake." She finally uttered, her strained knuckles betraying her agitation. "All I did was hit him with a broom, and not _very_ hard at that."

Aoshi shook his head, leafing through a thick volume of rights and procedures. Eyeing her critically over his text of criminal justice, he asked pointedly.

"You are born to the Kamiya family name are you not?"

Kaoru frowned, not understanding why her family name should matter one way or another.

"Yes, I am not illegitimate if that's what you're suggesting."

Aoshi's blue eyes did not waver.

"The Kamiya family name is in no way distinguishable."

Kaoru bristled. "My father was very well respected among my village. He was the epitome of a distinguished human being, and my mother was all that was good and gentle. Unlike--" She glared pointedly at Aoshi, throwing caution to the wind in light of her inevitable death, "the mob of people that stormed my home."

Aoshi studied her for a brief moment, the hard line of his mouth drawn tight. And then, as if he decided that she wasn't worth arguing with, continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Your family's bloodline is in no way remarkable. The Kamiya name has never been tied to one of gentry."

Kaoru continued her mutinous glare.

"A peasant's status, which you claim, in no way shields you from attacking one of noble birth. The Himura name, unlike your own, traces back to several generations of nobility and royalty. Since you attacked one so clearly above your station, the punishment for such behavior is obvious. To answer your question, there is no mistake."

'No mistake.' The words rang loud and ominous against the back drop of an otherwise wordy explanation.

The finality of those two words effectively quelled Kaoru's self-righteous anger. There was little point, after all, insisting the renown of a family name that was, in a few short moments, about to end.

Kaoru gripped her knuckles harder, forcing her numbed mind to sort through a myriad of possible escapes. Despite the undeniable allure of bursting into self-wallowing tears of pity, said tears would probably not help her situation any. And denying her alleged crime against nobility on the specification of word definitions, (After all, she hadn't truly _attacked_ the man. One could reasonably call her actions purely self-defensive) probably wouldn't fly either.

And fainting never helped anyone.

Kaoru bit her lip, her mind slowly dawning on the frightening possibility that there was absolutely no escape. That, sometime tomorrow morning, she—Miss Kaoru Kamiya, heiress of a humble abode, mistress of a solitary but comfortable existence, would cease to exist.

She was going to die un-kissed, unwedded, and unloved. There would be no one to mourn her passing. Not even distant relatives to bring flowers on occasional holidays and exchange stiff, teary greetings with her tombstone.

To add insult to injury, her method of termination would probably be messy and bloody.

Kaoru felt the dreadful prickling of tears at the back of her eyes and blinked them furiously. She would not let the heartless man before her see how her impending doom was bothering her.

"Have you any last words mademoiselle?"

"Yes." Kaoru gritted, her eyes flashing. Throwing the first insult that came into mind. "You sir, are a horrid human being."

Aoshi narrowed his eyes—an expression that quickly changed into one of astonishment as Kaoru continued in a tone that betrayed the tremulous grasp she had on her composure. Truly, the woman was one step away from hysteria.

"When you're done cutting off my head, you heartless buffoon, for a crime that can only be called ridiculous at best, I want my body delivered back to my house. I wish to be buried respectfully next to my home, if you remember what the word respectful means you insensitive cur. I want a white tombstone with my name marked in the center. Not to the left, nor to the right—**exactly** in the center. I want it to say in fancy letters beneath my name 'Death of exaggerated crime.'"

Kaoru inhaled a breath.

Aoshi watched the young woman calmly.

"Are you finished?"

"No!" Kaoru spat, riled by the hopelessness of the situation. "I also want flowers on my tombstone; beautiful white flowers to commiserate the irony of my bloody death."

Kaoru was quite satisfied with the ringing silence that heralded the end of her speech. Now she could say with authority that she had died with the last word. It was a hollow victory, but in light of her suddenly shortened life span one had to lower one's expectations of lifetime achievements.

From behind her, Kaoru heard sounds of choked laughter.

"Well Mr. Shinomori," A dark voice purred. "At least the woman knows what she wants."

Kaoru whipped her head around, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she realized that Aoshi had not been her only audience. She was dismayed to find the Marquis of Darcia leaning against the open doorway of Aoshi Shinomori's interrogation room, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"You." She growled hatefully, unnerved that she had not heard him enter.

"Me." He said smoothly, flashing her a heart-stopping grin.

Kaoru wanted to tear _his_ heart out and stomp on it with her right foot. Better yet, she would happily use it to play kickball with a bunch of porcupines. See if the smug villain would smile then. The man was single handily responsible for demolishing her home, as well as condemning her to a sordid end—all in the same morning. And now the beast was laughing at her misery.

"Get out."

Kenshin raised his brows. "I beg your pardon?"

"Beg harder, because you're not going to get it," Kaoru hissed. "I don't care if you're the King of France—you have two legs, turn around and walk out. The least you can do is leave me to die in peace."

Kenshin lowered his sinfully long lashes.

"You wound me mademoiselle."

"Good." Kaoru said spitefully, turning her back against the man as she looked expectantly at Aoshi.

The constable was sitting behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him as he watched the two in his room with a look of aggrieved patience.

"Miss Kaoru, you will be wise not to speak to your better that way."

Aoshi looked up at Kenshin, ignoring the way Kaoru stiffened resentfully at the implication that Kenshin was, in any way, better than she.

"Lord Himura," Aoshi began respectfully. "Get out."

Before Aoshi could continue, the shrill voice of Makimachi Misao sounded from behind the Marquis. Aoshi stood as the young woman marched in, a frown of displeasure crossing his handsome features.

"Lady Makimachi, how many times did I tell you NOT to come in while I'm with a criminal?"

The woman did not seem the least perturbed by the glowering stare she was receiving.

"Aoshi Shinomori!" She returned just as hotly. "How dare you drag off that young woman and leave me behind!"

She jabbed her figure accusingly in his face.

"I am your charge! You are not supposed to leave me behind, ever! Not even with my fiancé!"

Aoshi's expression turned blacker.

"And you!" She rounded on Kenshin, who looked down at her with a pained expression.

"How dare you propose to someone else, when fate declares we're meant to be together!"

She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Do you defy fate?"

Kenshin Himura, who did not look in the least bit frightened at the prospect of thwarting destiny's grand plan for his life, replied with admirable dead-pan.

"Yes."

Misao looked aghast.

Aoshi, whom had finally had enough interruptions, slammed the flat of his palm against the table. The explosion of sound caused three heads to swivel in his direction. The constable sat back down, casting a freezing look towards his unwanted company, he bit out.

"Lord Himura, Lady Makimachi, remove yourselves this instant. Do I have to lock you two up until I can finish? Because I will."

Misao looked stunned for a moment before she asked, truly curious.

"Really?"

"OUT!" Roared Aoshi.

Misao flinched, taking a step back, effectively cowed by Aoshi's uncharacteristic show of violent temper. Tittering next to Kenshin, who did not look the least bit disturbed, she whispered to the red haired Marquis.

"I think he means it."

Kenshin cast a cool gaze over the regent constable, sliding the amber gold of his eyes to linger on the young woman perched, pale as milk, on the edge of her seat. He studied her beneath half closed lids. Her profile was incredibly striking; the long tendrils of black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes hosted a brilliant shade of blue. And despite the fear for her life, Miss Kamiya had managed to entertain the lofty Lord of Darcia with her witty death wish.

Most women of Kenshin's caliber did not possess quite so much vocabulary, nor so much undisguised malice towards him. The Marquis couldn't possibly let the woman die now.

"Mr. Shinomori," Kenshin began, ignoring the frosted countenance of the man in question. "I believe you have made a mistake."

Aoshi said nothing.

Kenshin shifted his weight, his lithe figure prowling forward to stand next to Kaoru.

"This woman couldn't possibly be sentenced to death. Not for that petty crime."

Aoshi raised his brow.

"Are you telling my how to do my job Lord Himura? This woman attacked you."

"My name is Kaoru." Kaoru growled, annoyed at the men's liberal use of 'this woman.'

Both of the men in question chose to ignore her comment.

"Yes she did." Kenshin agreed smoothly.

"A peasant cannot hope to attack you, Lord Himura."

Kenshin tilted his head, a lazy smile on his lips. "Ah—but she is no mere peasant anymore my good constable."

Kaoru's heart did a funny lurch.

Misao Makimachi watched in the background with a look of fascinated horror.

"This may have escaped your memory," Kenshin continued, elegant fingers reaching to rest against Kaoru's shoulder. "I have proposed to this young woman. She is the next Marchioness of Darcia, near impervious to the death sentence."

Kaoru Kamiya squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip as Kenshin's words rang in her ear.

'She is the next Marchioness of Darcia.'

Kaoru wondered what hateful deity she had unwittingly offended during her lifetime on earth. Here, she had unfairly been sentenced to death, and her only means of escape was to be forever shackled to her tormentor. By god, she was going to have to marry a complete stranger.

While her grand visions of love had never seen fit to grace her with its presence, she had been fairly mollified with her independence and dignity in managing her home. Her freedom more than made up for the lack of male company in her life, and now—she thought with increasing despair—all of that would be gone.

She was going to live, unloved, in a forced marriage—or die not doing so.

Aoshi smiled humorlessly at the Marquis. "As I recall, Lord Himura, Miss Kamiya did not accept your offer yet."

The constable turned to Kaoru, who was looking quite ill in the afternoon light, waiting for her to jump at the chance to escape. Surprisingly, the raven haired miss sat in stony silence with nary a trace of joy. Not even a half hearted smile in her engagement to the most eligible bachelor in the province.

Aoshi frowned.

"Miss Kaoru Kamiya of no notable birth, Lord Kenshin Himura—Marquis of Darcia, sole heir to the Darcian estates, regent governor and protector of the realm, has proposed to you. Do you accept his offer?"

Kaoru sat silent, rigid in her seat.

Aoshi looked at her pointedly, as if the choice was obvious.

"Doing so will absolve you from any charges against the Marquis' royal person." He prompted, just in case the chit was unaware of the full benefits of becoming the next Marchioness.

Kaoru Kamiya, quite possibly the biggest fool on the face of the planet, finally said in a calm and even voice.

"No. I do not accept."

The regent constable's office immediately erupted in a chorus of disbelieving voices. The loudest of which, belonged to Makimachi Misao who, despite her own designs upon Kenshin, was stunned by the turn of events into berating Kaoru for her lack-wit decision. This was followed by a grimed faced Marquis whom strode out of Aoshi Shinomori's office with nary a word.

The ever stern regent constable sat regarding the woman across him thoughtfully. For the first time since Kaoru Kamiya had been dragged bodily into the room, the constable's eyes alighted with something other than bored tolerance.

Amazingly, it was with something close to amusement (one can never be entirely sure) that the blue eyed dispenser of justice pulled out a notepad and scribbled a few words on it. It read:

"It was 1:45 in the afternoon when one young lady of no distinguishable birth shunned the most eligible bachelor in the province in favor of death."

* * *

A hearty thank you is extended all those who enjoyed the first chapter, especially to those who took the time to leave such wonderful reviews! At the risk of sounding obsessive, each one was lovingly ogled over. You guys rock my socks! (Especially you Rayne!) In light of all your fantastic-ness, I have decided to post Chapter 2 ahead of schedule. 

A special thanks is offered to the wonderful miss Garfield whose look of confusion/ epiphany has helped me edit this story.

And of course, to the smexy Rayne-Kamori, who is not allowed to read the unedited version of this work because it is this author's wish to see her fall on her arse laughing. (BTW—your second chapter to the amazing, "To meet you in Valinor" is overdue. O Thought I should point it out.) .

Until next time,

Li Laine.


	3. Death at 2:33pm

It was exactly 2:33 in the afternoon when Kaoru Kamiya burst into self wallowing tears of pity.

Her heartfelt, gut wrenching sobs were made ever the more pitiful by the young woman's earnest attempts to stem her flow of tears by wiping her eyes with the wide sleeves of her blouse. This however, did nothing but smear dirt across the young woman's face.

Kenshin Himura, Marquis of Darcia watched the raven haired beauty sitting across from him in his lavish carriage with a steady look of annoyance. While he had it on the best account that young ladies of the realm would be beside themselves with emotion at the prospect of marriage to him, he had not expected said marriage to render any young woman into sobbing hysterically with grief.

Really, it was quite insulting—not to mention rude.

It wasn't everyday that the Marquis of Darcia roused himself at the crack of dawn to extricate a young woman from her own foolishness. It was even more amazing that he had spent the prior night awake to plan his rescue. It happened thus:

It was 5:30 in the morning when Kenshin Himura rolled out of bed and snapped at an unfortunate stable boy to ready his mount. His gracious nobility then proceeded to ride at a hell for leather pace towards the site of a certain young woman's execution. Luckily (for the horse) the destination was not so far away from the Marquis' estate.

He arrived on the scene in time to witness a shivering, and miserable Kaoru walking with admirable dignity towards her expected death.

Reining his stallion in, Kenshin called out to a surprised Aoshi Shinomori. The regent constable speared Kenshin with a look of wary suspicion as the Lord Darcia dismounted in one clean leap.

Kenshin Himura stalked across the remaining distance, thrusting a sheet of parchment into Mr. Shinomori's hands.

The blue-eyed executioner looked down at the piece of paper without understanding, before he raised a brow at the red haired Marquis.

"What is this?" He prompted, when Kenshin did nothing except cross his arms over his chest.

"It is a noble pardon of course." Kenshin supplied, smiling lazily for effect. "It stipulates an extension of time for Miss Kaoru to come to her senses. Should she become the next Marchioness, this pardon absolves my future wife from her crime against my person. The young woman was bewildered yesterday, she should be given time to think."

Beneath his long lashes however, Kenshin Himura was watching Aoshi with alert eyes. In truth, there was no such thing as a noble pardon for a crime against nobility. A royal pardon perhaps, but even the Marquis of Darcia could not have one immediately procured in the allotted time between Kaoru's rejection of him—and her execution the next morning.

Instead, he decided to thoroughly throw his weight around as Marquis of Darcia, Governor and Protector of the realm, and supreme connection to all people of importance. This procedure, however underhanded, had never failed to work in any situation. Granted, most individuals were more compromising than the scowling Aoshi Shinomori, but _he_ was Kenshin Himura.

Setting his teeth for the inevitable questioning that was already lurking in Aoshi's eyes, the Marquis was greatly surprised when the constable did not voice his dissention. Aoshi Shinomori barely glanced down at the note of pardon before he nodded brusquely.

Striding over to Kaoru, he opened the iron shackles tied around her wrists before he told her.

"The Lord Himura has pardoned you as the future fiancé to the Marquis of Darcia. You are free to go my lady."

That was 6:00 in the morning.

--2:36 found Miss Kaoru Kamiya, future Marchioness of Darcia, in a fresh state of tears.

Kenshin Himura sat elegant and poised, golden eyes watching the young woman sniffle into her shirt. Sighing darkly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. Handing the handsomely embroidered piece of cloth over towards the young woman, he remarked dryly.

"You may start on this piece of cloth mademoiselle. The one you call a shirt has already been drenched."

Kaoru looked up at him over her arm. The red-rimmed puffiness of her eyes did nothing to lessen her scowl of complete loathing. She peered at the Marquis for a moment, then at his peace offering. She was in half a mind to refuse the beautiful handkerchief, on the account that she did not accept presents from monsters, before she thought better of it.

Snatching it rudely from his grasp, she proceeded to mop up the rest of her tears before blowing her nose soundly into the cloth. Then she reached out and handed the damp linen back towards the Marquis, relishing in his grimace.

"Keep it." He muttered, pushing the handkerchief back at her.

Kaoru Kamiya, whom had finally managed to quell her grief into manageable hiccups, looked up at the Marquis. In a voice that could be called passably calm, she asked,

"Do I really have to marry you?"

Kenshin returned her searching gaze with a sensuous smile, and completely ignored her question.

"Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life mademoiselle?"

Kaoru glared.

"No."

The Marquis sighed, managing to look completely beleaguered.

"So ungrateful."

Kaoru twisted the folds of her skirt, resisting the urge to strangle the man sitting across from her. Counting slowly to a thousand, she managed to say instead.

"Why did you save me?"

Kenshin, whom was momentarily fascinated with the woman's ability to speak with her teeth gritted closed, favored her with a boyish grin.

"Because you despise me."

"WHAT?" Came Kaoru's intelligent reply, her eyes widening with disbelief. "You mean to tell me sir, that you saved me because I hate you? What are you, some type of masochist?"

Kenshin peered at the woman through the long red tendrils of his bangs.

"No." He answered, his voice a dark purr. "I merely find your undisguised loathing of my person refreshing."

Kaoru deflated, too stunned (and confused) to keep up her rage against the man. She eyed him suspiciously, reading him for signs of sarcasm. She did not find any.

"You're serious." She managed, looking at the Marquis in wonder.

"Of course."

Kaoru frowned. "Are you telling me that no one, not _one_ single person in your entire life, has told you what an arrogant and completely moral less person you are?"

Kenshin raised his brow at her.

"No."

"_No one?"_

"None."

Kaoru chewed on her lip, flabbergasted at the possibility that Kenshin Himura had never been graced with a decent set-down. She tried again.

"Not even your enemy?"

"Not even my enemy." He replied solemnly.

Kaoru sat back against the velvet couch of Kenshin's carriage, momentarily forgetting that he had abducted her for marriage, and stared at him incredulously.

"Well," She remarked at last, eyeing him critically over her crossed arms. "It's no wonder you turned out the way you did."

Kenshin looked at her curiously.

"And how is that?"

"Why, no less than a pompous, arrogant, self-assured jerk."

Kenshin choked, and Kaoru felt ridiculously pleased at the chance to pound the Marquis' back with the flat of her hand.

Wrestling himself away from her malevolent attentions, Kenshin gazed up at her through intense amber eyes.

"By god woman." He said crossly. "Do you find some perverse pleasure in hitting me?"

Kaoru flashed him a smug smile, and said with all the self possessed confidence of the Marquis himself,

'Yes."

And then the carriage lurched to a stop.

Kaoru Kamiya whom had blissfully forgotten the reason why she was in Kenshin Himura's luxurious coach in the first place, was rudely reminded. The Marquis watched as the young woman instantly stiffened, all traces of humor gone. She reached a pale hand forward to pull back the drawings covering the windows.

A look of confusion crossed her face as she turned back to the man sitting across from her.

"Where are we?"

Kenshin Himura gave her a sidelong look, before opening the door of the carriage. Outside, was not a lavish manor nestled in a sleepy landscape of rolling hills and babbling brooks. In fact, it was just the opposite. Cobblestones lined the streets as other lavish carriages bumped gently across it. Rows and rows of the most fashionable shops hugged the edges of the bustling crowd. Young gentlemen and flocks of gently bred misses dotted the streets with colorful parasols.

Kaoru watched as the Marquis exited the carriage with sure, graceful strides, before turning around and offering her his hand. Her breath caught in her throat, despite herself. The man was positively beautiful in the morning light. If she squinted a little, he could even pass for gallant.

Kaoru sat rigid in her seat, looking at the pro-offered hand with undisguised disdain.

"Where are we?" She asked again, clearly unwilling to exit the carriage until her question had been answered.

Kenshin gave her a slow, handsome smile. "Why mademoiselle—it's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." Kaoru returned disagreeably.

Kenshin sighed, looking for all the world like a tormented lover.

"Very well, we are in Le Boulevard des Rêves. Now, if you please."

He indicated his hand again.

Kaoru ignored him.

"And what are we doing here?" She persisted. "It's an upscale town."

"Why," Kenshin looked up with innocence. "We are going to get you refitted into proper clothes mademoiselle."

Koaru bristled, her temper flaring hotly. First, the man had seen it proper to snatch her from her fate (however dreaded), only to thrust her into another that she had clearly not wanted. And now the insufferable boor was hinting that she was not fit to be seen in his company with her attire. She was suddenly filled with an urge to embarrass His Loftiness by wearing exactly what she had donned. She might even manage to scuffle her miserable dress between the market square and his home, by cart wheeling across the street. With luck, such freakishness might persuade the man that she was not suitable for marriage after all.

"There is nothing wrong with my clothes."

The Marquis raised his brow, but wisely said nothing regarding Kaoru's state of dress. The young miss' attire was certainly not rags, but the outfit was several seasons out of fashion. A point, Kenshin was sure, that the spiteful women of the town would hasten to point out.

But the Marquis was genuinely confused by the young woman's unwillingness to be properly fitted. Every other miss he had the graciousness to attire was ecstatic at his attentions. Not to mention, the expensive gown that they would otherwise be unable to procure.

"Humor me." Kenshin returned, snatching her hand from her lap, dragging her from her seat.

Kaoru's inarticulate cry of surprise, and rage startled several passing onlookers whom whispered heatedly among themselves as the Marquis easily caught the slight woman. These whispery conversations grew ever the more frenzied as they watched one devilishly handsome (and extremely marriageable) young man, easily drag an angry and hissing young woman down the street, around the corner, and into Les Dames Royales—the most uppity of fashion shops.

* * *

It was 3:00 in the afternoon when one young future miss of Darcia was unwilling turned into a pincushion.

A very angry pincushion.

The woman in question seethed with unreleased malice as yet another pesky pin jabbed painfully into her side. She resisted the urge to howl like an injured animal. This reaction, (she could say with first-hand experience) did nothing to abate the pain, nor speed up the process. It did, however, incur:

A wrathful look from the shop mistress, whom had to refold the fabric, and re-pin the dress.

A quelling look of amusement from the Marquis whom was sitting across the room. (His suspicious look of innocence did not fool Kaoru Kamiya's spidery senses for one moment.)

The lovely and elegant shop mistress flicked her heavily lashed eyes towards her customer with unfiltered scorn. A look, Kaoru was sure, magically changed into one of fawning whenever the Marquis glanced in their direction.

Kaoru wondered if she could somehow cow kick the woman with equal stealth, but thought better of it. Although the mental image of Megumi Takani's amble bosom exploding upon impact would be forever immortalized in Kaoru's list of triumphs, the future Marchioness did happen to notice that the shop woman had an amazing array of sharp pins at her command. And, Kaoru noted with prudence, the woman might be partial to jabbing all three trillion of them into Kaoru's being in retaliation for her destroyed breasts.

This tradeoff effectively restrained Kaoru's strategic brilliance to progress no further than the blueprint of her imagination.

"Where did you find this one Lord Himura?" Megumi purred. "She's as skinny as a raccoon. Your usual women are much more voluptuous."

Kaoru felt a stab of jealously. She instantly tried to smash the un-logical beast back into the green pits of envy from whence it came. She may be the reluctant fiancé of the Lord of Darcia, but she was in no way emotionally tied to the man. He could sleep with all the women of France for all she cared.

She sniffed indignantly. A glance at the Marquis' handsome profile did nothing to quell the monster (called jealously) whom was peeping warily from his hole—eager to make a second appearance. The man had probably charmed more women than Casanova. He probably _was_ Casanova. And if he wasn't, then he must be a religious disciple.

Kaoru wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

"Actually," Kaoru began, remembering the barb Megumi had thrown. "Raccoons are really fat creatures." _Like your head._ Kaoru wanted to add—but was satisfied with a startled look from the shopkeeper.

Megumi Takani's momentary surprise instantly changed to one of calculating innocence.

"I see, are you saying young miss, that you are fat?"

Kaoru did not bat an eye, replying with equal innocence.

"No. I'm saying you are wrong."

Kenshin Himura, whom from the very first moment, liked Miss Kaoru Kamiya for her acerbic wit, and outspoken nature, smirked at the darkening look of the most sought after dress maker in town.

"She does have a razor tongue doesn't she?" Kenshin added helpfully.

"Yes," Megumi returned, fixing a pointed look at Kaoru. "It is most unbecoming. It is fashionable for women to be demure and polite. Her manners are bullish at best."

Kaoru flinched, unpleasant memories of other such remarks effectively dug up by Megumi's unknowingly well placed barb. She had not been encouraged in her efforts of independence. An unmarried, un-widowed woman living by herself without a guardian was seen as unnatural at best.

Kenshin's eyes darkened instantly, all traces of humor gone. His half bemused smile, was dressed in ice.

"You will be wise, Ms. Takani—to not speak to my future wife that way."

Megumi faltered.

"Your _wife?_"

Kenshin Himura continued blithely, driving the proverbial nail home.

"I happen to like outspoken women, if more women were so delightfully bullish, I might have been married a long while ago."

It was Kaoru's startled gaze that caught Kenshin's attention as she looked at him with an indecipherable expression. It was vulnerable, proud, and grateful—and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself that he had defended her so soundly.

"Have you finished with your measurements Ms. Takani?" Kenshin asked, fixing her a glacial look.

The woman nodded, her composure regained.

"Yes, my lord. Your order should be ready in the next three weeks."

"I wish to have it done in two days."

Megumi smiled cattily. "It would cost you double my lord."

Kenshin tilted his head, luscious red bangs falling into his eyes. He looked every bit, like the proud Marquis he was.

"Does it look like I'm in need of money Ms. Takani? I want it in two days."

He reached out a placating hand to Kaoru.

"Come, Miss Kamiya."

Kaoru, whom wasn't quite sure why she felt so happy that Kenshin had soundly set down the unpleasant dress maker, stepped towards the Marquis. The two of them left hand in hand to where Kenshin's private coach was waiting.

Megumi Takani watched the retreated pair with troubled eyes.

Pulling out a single sheet of paper she scrawled a few quick words. She then summoned her young assistant and placed the sealed note in her hand.

"I want this note to be delivered to Lady Yukishiro immediately."

* * *

The carriage rolled in silence, the evening sun slowly setting at an undetermined time over the horizon. It's lazy drawl cast the dying day in an unparallel burst of red, yellows, and oranges. Kaoru, whom had been watching this phenomenon with unseeing eyes, finally turned towards the Marquis sitting across from her.

"Thank you," She said simply.

Kenshin flitted his eyes towards the black haired young woman.

"I beg your pardon?"

Kaoru shifted in her seat, her eyes steady on his face.

"I said, thank you, for earlier."

Kenshin studied the woman sitting across from him with guarded eyes. It occurred to him that he was impressed with her show of humility. Despite her out and out pride (of which he also admired), it was not above her to look beyond her ego when she had to. It was rare, precious—and quite unlike anything Kenshin had ever encountered. It was in that instant that Kenshin decided he would not force her into marrying him.

And thus, he proceeded to ruin their moment of mutual admiration by remarking with an astonished look.

"I beg your pardon?"

Kaoru scowled, her momentary good will towards the Marquis instantly dispelled.

"Do not look so startled sir—I am not so mull headed that I cannot extend thanks to you when you deserve it."

Kenshin smiled unrepentantly, looking sinfully beautiful in the evening glow. "Ah—does that mean that you will gladly marry me now?"

"No."

"Pity." Kenshin sighed. "I was so looking forward to an eternity with you."

He looked so downright depressed that Kaoru felt the beginnings of a smile tug unwillingly at her lips.

"Where do you get your corny lines sir?" She admonished. "They're terrible."

Kenshin looked affronted.

"I'll have you know that most young women swoon at such proclamations of undying love."

Kaoru snorted inelegantly.

"Most young women are fools."

"That's not very loyal of you Miss Kamiya."

Kaoru smiled, but said nothing, looking out at the window once more.

It was well into the evening when Kenshin Himura's carriage rolled up in front of Darcia. The impressive manor was alight with all sorts of colors and designs. Kaoru was amazed at the sheer size of the castle that loomed before her. It was lighted with countless chandeliers and the grounds seem to sparkle with the splashing fountains. And as impressed as Kaoru was, her internal sense of good judgment did now allow the display to stupefy her.

She had defied conventions by living alone—she would not destroy her reputation entirely by spending the night in the Marquis of Darcia's home. She had no wish to walk around with whispers of 'harlot' trailing in her wake. There were some things that Kaoru Kamiya did not wish to inflict upon herself. One of which was the unparalleled shame of a gently bred woman's downfall to a notorious rake.

She turned vengeful eyes towards the Marquis.

"Why are we here? We are not married yet, I wish to return home."

Kenshin gave her a surprised look.

"But you can't"

Kaoru glared. "And why not?"

"Well for one—your house is… incomplete. You have no roof."

Kaoru blinked, suddenly remembering the sad state of her beautiful cottage. Gritting her teeth, she bit out.

"And second?"

"Secondly," Kenshin began. "Miss Kamiya, I'd like to make a deal with you."

Kaoru's eyes flitted towards the Marquis' in suspicion.

"I refuse to sleep with you."

Kenshin drew back startled. Most women of his caliber did not even know what "sleeping together" entailed. It was a somewhat guarded matter among the high ranking misses.

"How--" He began.

"I am not some lack-wit female with no worldly knowledge sir." Kaoru began as if she read his mind. "I know what goes on in the local bars. And I refuse to compromise myself."

Kenshin laughed, a throaty sound that sent shivers down Kaoru's spine. "I'm pleased at your incredible show of good sense miss—and although it's an enticing suggestion that's not what I had in mind."

Kaoru regarded him warily.

"Since you seem so opposed to marrying me—I have decided that you don't have to."

Kaoru—in her astonishment—fell out of her seat.

Kenshin looked down at her dryly.

"Please try to contain your excitement."

Kaoru looked up at him.

"Truly?"

The Lord of Darcia nodded. "One condition though."

"You are to accompany me to the ball two days from now. And—you will not be adverse to the idea of me courting you."

Kaoru blinked up at the man, wondering if laughing hysterically would somehow damage the chances of her miraculous escape. She picked herself up off the floor delicately.

Sitting down in her seat she brushed her skirt before replying.

"You realize sir--that's two conditions." But before Kenshin could change his mind, she continued. "But seeing that I am a magnanimous and charitable person, I accept your offer."

She cleared her throat, glancing at the manor from the carriage window.

"I am also an extremely prudent person. Seeing that my house is now indisposed, you will tell anyone who asks that your beloved Aunt Clara is staying with us and acting as guardian. You will also tell them that she is from Transylvania or another such bewildering country as to throw off suspicion should they ask."

Kenshin, whom thought that there was nothing more suspicious than a fictitious aunt from a nearly unheard of country tied to his family name, did not voice his opinion. Instead, he replied with mock seriousness.

"Shall I also inform them miss, that she is mute, dumb, and blind?"

Kaoru speared him a lofty look. "Certainly not. How will she act as chaperone then? No, better tell them she has the hearing of a bat, and eyes that can see in the dark."

Kenshin grinned. "I see, how very logical of you mademoiselle."

Kaoru, whom was feeling remarkably chirpier than she had for the last twenty four hours, grinned back.

"I see we are in agreement then."

She extended her hand. "You may help me down from this carriage now."

And so it is duly noted that Kaoru Kamiya, ex-future Marchioness of Darcia, has deftly escaped death and marriage at an otherwise ordinary hour of six and thirty.

* * *

Huzzah! That concludes episode 3 of Kaoru's crazy life. It should also be admitted that his author has broken her self imposed rule and handed over the unedited version of this script to the lovely Rayne Kamori. Sigh. Although she (Rayne) was not able to enjoy the polished version of the work as was this author's intention (though I did add a super secret extra clip to make up for it), her efforts have resulted in the death of 1 unnecessary comma and 1 spelling error of the French nature. You (dear readers) may thank her for her careful editing.

And once again, thank you (fantabulous readers) for the lovely reviews. They have been hugged with teary eyes of gratitude.

Li Laine.

(P.S. Start posting again Lanse. .)


	4. Marriage at 8:20am

It was 8:20 in the morning when Kaoru Kamiya burst into the bedchamber of the Marquis of Darcia.

In her hand, she held the morning newspaper with a look of absolute horror on her face. She then proceeded to wave the sheets of paper in the Marquis' sleep laden countenance in her eagerness to have him understand what was written on the front page. The red-haired Marquis, whom had previously been enjoying a pleasant dream, was understandably grumpy at being so rudely awakened.

"What in the devil's name is your problem?"

Kaoru did not seem to hear him.

"_Look!_" She commanded, jabbing a finger into the paper.

He looked.

On the front page, written in bold letters were the words **'The Marquis of Darcia is officially engaged to Miss Kaoru Kamiya.'**

Kenshin stared dumbly at the words.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kaoru demanded one hand planted on the side of her hips. "I thought we had an agreement!"

Kenshin snatched the paper from her hand, perusing the document as he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes.

After a moment of tense silence, he announced calmly.

"Well, it looks like our engagement."

Kaoru, displaying her incredible poise and etiquette, proceeded to stomp her foot angrily on the floor.

"You cad!" She hissed. "You had all of this planned out."

Kenshin's expression darkened.

"You tried to get my trust last night by pretending to be sweet and honorable." She glared at him. "I can't believe I trusted you."

Kenshin narrowed his eyes at her, as he leaned back against the bed frame stating tersely.

"Why would I go through the trouble of gaining your favor, only to ruin it the next morning?"

Kaoru's mind reeled at his logical reply.

"I don't know." She admitted, her words catching on her gritted teeth. "You're the criminal mastermind. I, unfortunately, have no expertise in the way a villain's mind works. Perhaps you thought I wouldn't find out about the engagement so soon."

Kenshin raised his brow.

"As influential as I am, I'm sure it would be quite difficult to destroy _every_ single newspaper that could come within your sight."

He nodded towards the one he was holding.

"Though if that were the case, you'd think I'd be smart enough to hide this one—being a criminal mastermind and all."

Kaoru flushed.

Her breath let out in a whoosh—and for the second time since childhood, Kaoru felt the need to burst into tears.

Kenshin Himura, Marquis of Darcia, watched the young woman's emotion play across her face. His sympathy at her plight effectively dispelled his anger.

"Miss Kamiya," Kenshin said quietly, "I did not announce any engagement to the public to try and trap you into marrying me."

Kaoru said nothing.

The Marquis sighed, running a hand through the fire-red strands of his hair.

"This may come as a surprise for you my dear, but I happen to want my wife to like me."

Kaoru looked up at him startled.

"I for one would feel safer that my counterpart did not wish my demise. Statistically it makes for a longer life."

Kaoru deflated, looking so utterly defeated that if Kenshin Himura was not so preoccupied with the young woman's distress, he might have found it insulting that her misery was once again caused by their engagement. Kenshin watched the young woman compose herself, drawing herself up to the imperious height of five feet, before spearing him with a formidable glare.

"Fix it."

Kenshin raised a brow.

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"I am sure that your influential self is more than capable of dispelling a small rumor."

Kenshin grinned, tilting his head against the dark fabric of his pillow.

"While I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, the morning post's official announcement hardly qualifies as a 'small rumor.'"

Kaoru scowled, her pretty features scrunched up as if the printed information was giving off an offensive odor.

"So," Kenshin remarked lazily looking at the fuming woman. "Have you always scowled so much? Or is this another side effect after meeting me?"

Kaoru glanced up at the man.

"Can you really call it a side effect?"

"Your words are cutting mademoiselle."

It was with some sense of alarm that Kenshin watched the young woman sink to the ground, her shoulders slumped. Splaying her delicate fingers over her face as if she could somehow hide from the shock, she began to mutter nonsensical things to herself. Among them included such bewildering phrases as:

'I should have moved to the new world when I had the chance'

'What have I done to deserve this? This is hardly a fair punishment for dumping wash bin water on that horrid man's head.'

'But if You will let me off it, I will promise to march over there and apologize.'

'I will also refrain from ever smashing anyone across the face with a broom. I have reformed my evils ways.'

Kenshin frowned. Rising from his bed, he padded over to the young woman, crouching so he could see her face. He reached his fingers under her chin and lifted it.

"What are you muttering about?"

Kaoru looked at him miserably.

"Negotiating with my God."

Kenshin smiled at her obstinate reply.

"And how is that working out for you?"

Kaoru sighed dramatically.

"He put me on hold."

Kenshin laughed, a pleasant sound that came deep from the recesses of his chest. Kaoru found her spirits lighten ever so slightly despite herself. The Marquis of Darcia favored the chit in front of him with a rueful smile--

"Surely it's not so terrible. You could do worse than marrying the wealthiest man in the province."

Kenshin was surprised at the look of irritation and reproach in Kaoru's eyes. And then Miss Kaoru Kamiya astounded him by declaring the one phrase Kenshin Himura would never have thought to be uttered from any young miss' mouth.

"I don't wish to marry for money."

Perhaps it was due to the phenomenon that the Marquis of Darcia had very little experience with women whom did not regard him as a walking bank, because he snorted inelegantly at the young miss sitting on the ground.

"Don't be ridiculous, all women wish to marry for money."

Kaoru's look of hostility deepened.

"Well," Kenshin finally allowed. "All normal young misses wish to marry for money."

Kaoru inwardly winced at yet another innuendo that she had somehow failed in her duty of being a woman. Outwardly, she restrained her wayward hands from reaching for the Marquis' neck. Really, it wouldn't do to strangle her fiancé, especially because she probably wouldn't get away with it.

"What is wrong with not marrying for money?" Kaoru had intended her tone to come out cold and collected. Dangerous in its stillness, the way the Marquis had displayed in the tailoring shop. Thus, she was dismayed to hear herself sounding strangled, and impudent, as if she were a stubborn five year old child.

She was not cheered when her unwanted-future-fiancé looked towards her has if she had just announced she wished to raise ducks for a living.

She could feel the anger inside her mounting like a storm—waiting to unleash its mighty and terribly fury upon the villainous cad. All she needed was for him to utter a single phrase to seal his doom- among the accepted death phrases including (but not limited to): 1. It is a woman's place to bear heirs—nothing more. 2. It is freakish (may substitute another adjective) for a woman to be independent. 3. Doesn't every woman want a comfortable living? (in other words, women are incapable of being happy or independent on their own) 4. Women are--

"Nothing."

Kaoru blinked, reeling back in mid mental tirade.

"What?" There was nothing quite like a short and profound answer to defuse an otherwise magnificent tirade.

The black haired young woman sat bewildered, scrutinizing the man sitting before her. If he was mocking her, she would never forgive him. To her astonishment, she did not find any traces of cruelty hidden behind a knowing smirk. She had seen far too many in her lifetime to not recognize it when she saw it. But whatever was behind the Marquis' beautiful countenance, it wasn't that.

"I beg your pardon, what did you say?"

"I said," Kenshin repeated, amused, his voice a soft purr. "There is nothing wrong with not marrying for money."

"Oh." Kaoru fidgeted.

Really, what else was a girl to say?

Kaoru tried to suppress the rising warmth she was feeling towards the Marquis.

"Then why did you seem so stupefied that I didn't wish to marry for money?"

"Because I have never met any woman that didn't,"

Kenshin flashed a breathtaking smile.

"But now that I have, I believe she is quite amazing."

Kaoru's flushed, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. And it was with some amazement that she realized her heart just skipped a beat.

* * *

Meanwhile, across town-- Lady Tomoe Yukishiro fingered the morning post, a frown marring her otherwise flawless features. With her dark silken hair swept up into a fashionable chignon, her elegant neck sporting the latest jewelry, there was no question among the ton as to who was this year's incomparable.

Long lashes fluttered up to reveal incredible lavender eyes. She glided over to her vanity table, reaching for a note that had been sent to her yesterday by one of Megumi Takani's shop girls. Pursing petal like lips, she unfolded the sheet – spreading out the creases before her as she read it again.

_Lady Yukishiro—It has come to my knowledge that the Marquis of Darcia is engaged. The young woman in question was here earlier in my shop this morning, by the name of Kaoru Kamiya. I trust that you will not let this piece of information go to waste? _

_Megumi Takani._

Tomoe Yukishiro, Lady of Whitmore, glowered. Piercing eyes compared the note to the headline of the newspaper: **'The Marquis of Darcia is officially engaged to Miss Kaoru Kamiya.' **The slight young woman trembled, her knuckles whitening as she clutched at the morning post.

"You there," She beckoned the nearest servant, who jumped when she recognized the sour mood of the lady in question.

"Yes my lady?"

"I wish to purchase a new dress. See that you prepare a carriage for Ms. Takani's shop."

Fifteen minutes later, a lovely carriage with the Crest of Whitmore flashing from its doors, was seen hurtling down the road towards _Les Dames Royales._

* * *

It was 6:55 in the evening when Kenshin Himura looked up from his dinner only to be regaled with a perfect picture of misery. The young woman sitting across from him was poking dejectedly at her food, chasing the peas around with her fork without much progress towards eating it.

Kenshin raised a brow, and stated mildly.

"The pea is winning."

This seem to startle the young woman enough to look up at the man. She offered him tight lipped smile.

"I thought I would give it a sporting chance."

Despite himself, Kenshin grinned.

"How magnanimous of you my dear," He speared a choice piece of meat. "Now quit playing with your food."

Kaoru sighed, scooping up the pea which had deflated into a sad squishy oval, and popped it into her mouth. It tasted like ash.

While it was somewhat comforting that the man she was engaged to be married with wasn't a complete boar—it did nothing to abate her longing for her life to return to the way it had been a mere week earlier. Up until the previous night, that goal seemed well within reach—just until her roof was repaired.

And now—now she couldn't go back without causing the very scandal that she had wanted to avoid. If she had been unmarriageable before with her independence, she certainly wasn't going to get any more popular by jilting the Marquis. Or rather, the papers would probably put out that the Marquis had jilted her.

It was settled—she would never find a man she loved.

She wiped furiously at her eyes.

"Are you alright my dear?"

Kaoru looked up at the Marquis of Darcia, who was regarding her quizzically.

"Dust." Kaoru managed weakly, shoving more peas into her mouth.

The Lord of Darcia continued to watch the young woman with smoldering eyes.

"You know—" He murmured at last. "What I said last night still stands."

Kaoru looked up warily from her food.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I still wish to court you mademoiselle."

Kaoru attempted to raise her brow, then decided a frown would be easier.

"Isn't that a bit superfluous? You're going to marry me in the end."

"We're not married yet."

"We may as well be."

Kenshin shrugged. "But we are not. And if you don't wish to be, we won't."

Kaoru snorted. "You make it sound so very easy. You may be able to recover from jilting a penniless nobody" She waved her fork at him, "I can hardly say the same for myself."

Kenshin sighed.

"Your concern for my feelings and welfare touches me."

Kaoru jabbed her fork into her plate, shooting him a long suffering look.

"Well a girl has got to look out for herself, no one else will."

"I will."

"You may refrain from spewing your corny lines at me sir, I assure you it will not work."

"You wound me, love."

'Wounding you would be far too kind a fate' Kaoru grumbled, stabbing a vegetable she had mentally dubbed 'Lord Darcia.'

"What was that?"

"You have something on your face." Kaoru replied cheerfully, pointing to a non-existent particle near the Marquis' face.

"I do not."

Kaoru shrugged. "My mistake."

Kenshin looked at her in a way that said : I know, that you know, that I know—that you're trying to avoid the topic in question by blurting out inane phrases. Kaoru had to admit, it was quite impressive to get all that information across with one look.

"We will deal with the schematics when we cross it. I assure you miss, I will not embarrass you or render you unmarriageable should we not suit."

Kenshin was glad to see that for the first time that afternoon, miss Kaoru Kamiya's mood seemed a little better.

"Truly?"

"Gentleman's honor. Granted, you give me one month to court you first."

Kaoru waved her skewered vegetable at the Marquis from the end of her fork.

"Well Lord Darcia, I'd say you have a deal."

* * *

It was 10:55 in the evening, when a dark and ominous cloud gathered outside the shop of _Les Dames Royales_. This ill tempered black stain went by the name of Lady Tomoe Yukishiro.

The door to her lovely carriage snapped open, and it was with cool sophistication that the Lady in question swept into the shop of _Les Dames Royale;_ her fan tapping rthymitically against her hand.

Marching across the foyer of the elegant shop, she unfurled her silver laced fan in a resounding snap. Megumi Takani looked up from her desk without rising.

"Lady Yukishiro," The dark haired dressmaker purred, "how nice to see you."

Tomoe was not pleased.

"I am not pleased." She said mildly.

Megumi studied the woman standing across from her with calculating eyes. No doubt Lady Yukishiro was fuming to the point of bursting. However, anger came in many forms—Tomoe Yukishiro's brand had always come dressed in ice. And Megumi Takani, ever the perceptive, had a fairly good idea as to the cause of her displeasure.

And so she said.

"I can't imagine whatever for."

Tomoe's eyes narrowed, pulling out a small slip of paper that had been neatly tucked into her sleeve she tossed it on the table.

"Perhaps this will stir your imagination?"

Megumi glanced down at the paper and looked back up, a smirk alighting her lips.

"Ah yes, the talk of the town—the marriage of Kenshin Himura. I imagine you and a legion other of young women are beside themselves"

Tomoe's lips tightened.

Megumi Takani flipped her hair back over her shoulder impatiently, her sharp eyes sizing up the petite woman in front of her.

"And to what pleasure do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Who is she? This girl that Lord Himura is rumored to marry."

Megumi raised her brow. "Kaoru Kamiya"

Tomoe gripped her fan. "Yes, every ninny can read the name plastered all over the newspaper—I want to know who she is."

Tomoe prowled towards the shop keeper, and said her deadliest voice.

"I want to know her waist size."

Megumi stood up, her full skirts in one hand as swept across the room clearly irritated.

"That is strictly classified information. What kind of a dress keeper do you think I am?"

Tomoe tilted her chin.

"The kind that will be generously rewarded for her vast knowledge of the ton, and who will surely win the favor of the future Lady Darcia."

Megumi turned back, smiling cruelly.

"The future Lady Darcia is not very fond of me."

Tomoe glared.

"You will tell me her waist size madame—or do you wish to cross the Lady of Whitmore? Need I remind you who is your unfailing patron? Perhaps I will just take my business elsewhere."

Megumi scoffed in disdain. "You dimwitted little fool. I am the only shopkeeper with the new gold truffles in stock. Are you really willing to forgo your golden truffles for a waist size?"

Tomoe turned back around, weighing her desire for the flirty new dress cut and the information she sought.

Megumi had her cornered—the crafty bitch. A waist size surely wasn't worth her lovely new dress.

Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a small bag of coins. Walking over to press the delicately laced bag into Megumi's hand, she said,

"For the girl's lineage then."

Megumi withdrew her hand sharply, the bag of coins grasped neatly in her hand.

"I have no idea of her lineage, nor from which hole she crawled from. Neither do I have any idea what sort of trickery she used upon the Marquis to force his hand in marriage. Surely if I knew a trick—you'd have been married off to him long ago, and I would not be here in this shop sewing dresses."

Tomoe glared at Megumi.

"I see." She said tersely. Sashaying her way over to the chic window and fancy draperies, Tomoe looked out the window.

"Such a pity." She sighed.

"Yes, that you would come here merely to waste my time." Megumi snapped. "Seeing that I clearly penned everything of importance to you."

Tomoe stiffened, the small of her back ramrod straight. Turning around, her expression was unreadable.

"I apologize for wasting your time Madame."

Tomoe glided towards the door, only hesitating as she reached the steps leading out of the shop. She pulled a lovely pin from her hair fashioned in the design of the crest of Whitmore, placing the heirloom on a small table on the foyer she remarked casually,

"I will be most grateful if you find out any information for me Mrs. Takani."

Megumi huffed.

"Lady Yukishiro,"

Tomoe turned around.

"It is my experience that the best way to find information is from the source. You will be reminded that several crucial social events are due, will you not?"

Tomoe nodded gracefully—sweeping with grandeur towards her awaiting carriage.

"Oh and Tomoe?"

Megumi watched as the young woman turned back impatiently.

"Her waist size is 28."

And so, it was 11:30 when the Lady of Whitmore returned to her carriage armed with a new sense of purpose, feeling much better than she had all day. Especially because her waist size was 26.

* * *

Ta da! It's done! … Well, actually it's been done for a while—I just finally hauled ass today to finish proofing it. Heh. But better late than never yes?

Li Laine


	5. Incentives at 9:15am

It was 9:15 in the morning when Kaoru Kamiya, future Marchioness of Darcia, decided to eat her weight in scones.

The lady in question had a vague notion, that if she were to intake monumental amounts of puffy cream filled goodness, the Marquis of Darcia might be disinclined to marry a human balloon. Not to mention, she was quite sure no dress in _Les Dames Royales_ would fit a human sized war ship.

It wasn't that she didn't trust the Marquis on his word, but it couldn't hurt to give him some… incentives for keeping his promise. Besides, there were worse ways to go than stuffing yourself to the bursting point with the fanciest delicacies in the world. Really, it was no trouble at all.

With that happy thought, she glowed on the way to the market, eager to purchase her tasty weapons of choice.

And so, 10:03 in the morning found Miss Kaoru Kamiya, hereto still in possession of a slim and fetching figure, bartering with the scandalized owner of an expensive pastry shop.

"You want all of them." The man said. It wasn't so much of a question, as a dead panned repetition of what Kaoru had just said. If Kaoru had to define it precisely, she would say that it was probably equal parts distain and equal parts disbelief.

"Yes," she confirmed, flashing her pearly whites for effect, "every single one."

"You want all of them."

"Especially the cream filled fatty ones." Again, she flashed her winning smile.

The pleasantly portly pastry shop owner eyed Kaoru up and down with a look that could only mean—'you young miss who is neither fashionable nor noble could not possibly afford every one of my distinguished and delectable sweets. The price of one of them could probably buy the entire outdated outfit that you are wearing on your back.'

But of course, he said instead.

"You want all of them."

The smile on Kaoru's face was beginning to develop an unfriendly twitch that could only mean, 'yes, yes I am quite sure. If you ask me again this smile that I am wearing will undoubtedly turn into a snarl. And then, I may have to beat you with my ex-friend the broomstick which I will not be punished for because I am temporarily the next Marchioness of Darcia. Kapishe?'

But of course, she only said, 'Yes, I would like all of them.'

If Kaoru had known that buying some dessert would be so troublesome, she probably would have revised her brilliant plan.

Probably.

But in that instant she decided that if she ever developed enough cooking mastery to manage her own pastry shop, she would be glad—no, overjoyed when any customer wanted to patron her wares. She would develop some cheesy but poignant motto along the lines of 'the customer is always, always right.' She would write the mantra and post it over the menu. She would beat it (figuratively speaking) into all her hired hands.

And then she would put snotty uppity pastry owners out of business forever.

"Ahem."

Kaoru blinked, momentarily forgetting her progressive business model. She had not realized the man had spoken again.

"The price, mademoiselle, is 100 gold francs." He said with unnecessary triumph.

"Ah." Kaoru said perfectly amiably.

The young woman reached into her cleverly sewn pockets and pulled out a modest unassuming brown purse which she unlaced and upturned on the shop keeper's counter in one smooth motion.

One hundred shiny coins clattered like golden raindrops as they fell in an impressive heap on the marble surface.

The triumphant look vanished in the light of the man's astonishment. Kaoru couldn't help feeling just a tiny big smug.

"You were serious."

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

The man looked up from the gleaming pile of wealth on the table to Kaoru's unremarkable appearance. The shopkeeper stared as if Kaoru was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

"Monsieur?"

The owner snapped to attention.

"Ah yes, we'll send your sweets right up mademoiselle. I'll have the shop boys carry your order."

He hesitated.

"Begging your pardon mademoiselle, are you having a party?"

"In a manner of speaking."

He frowned at the cryptic response. Scribbling on a sheet of paper he asked, "Now where do I have the pleasure of sending this to?"

"Castle Darcia."

The man's eyes bulged.

"Castle Darcia?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

He flustered. "Unfortunately?"

Kaoru smiled humorlessly.

"Unfortunately." She confirmed in a tone that meant no further explanations.

* * *

It was 10:30 in the morning when Tomoe Yukishiro was effectively snubbed.

Needless to say, the reigning beauty queen did not take any form of slight very graciously, whether imagined or implied. The lovely swan of the realm had heard through her various sources that the Lady Kamiya was throwing an elaborate tea party. She had sent some servant girl to order two hundred of the finest pastries in the world.

And she had not invited the Lady of Whitmore.

It was an insult to end all insults.

Who did the chit think she was?

Some nameless nobody who thought herself the next Marchioness would dare to snub one of the wealthiest heiresses in the realm?

Tomoe paced around in her sun room like a petite and angry lynx that swished her figurative tail in irritation every time she made a full round of the space. Tomoe had considered herself above pettiness; she was a lady of the first degree. However, this Kamiya girl had gone too far.

Tomoe would see to it that she paid dearly for her social faux pas.

Stalking to her writing desk, she took out a cream colored sheet of scented paper. Penning a note to Megumi in her elaborate script, she informed the famed seamstress that she would be paying a visit at roughly 2:15 in the afternoon.

She then penned another note to _La Crème du Sucre_ ordering three hundred fresh pastries.

And last but not least, she penned a personal invitation to the Lady Kamiya, inviting her to a tea party.

* * *

It was 3:40 in the afternoon when Kenshin stumbled upon a tower in his living room.

It was surrounded by a circle of cheering tourist that suspiciously resembled his butler, a splattering of doormen, and a gaggle of maids.

Even more suspicious, they were cheering. He had it on the best accounts that distinguished hired help do not cheer for any reason; unless of course, it was for the untimely death of an unpleasant employer, or the fact that they had inexplicably become insanely wealthy.

Since neither was the case, he walked forward, curious—clearing his throat he watch as his group of tourist miraculously turned back into hired help and resumed their positions, mumbling apologies.

In their wake they revealed his petite fiancé, looking adorable as she tried to stack what looked like a blueberry crème puff on top of a giant tower of sweets.

Kenshin raised a brow.

"Is there a reason why you're reconstructing the tower of Babel in my living room out of afternoon pastries?"

Kaoru turned in surprise.

"Himura I didn't hear you come in."

"You were busy." He allowed, glancing at the tittering tower of frills and crème. "Now, the tower of Babel?"

Kaoru rolled her eyes. "Well sir, its obvious isn't it?"

"What's obvious?"

Kaoru grinned cheekily, as she pushed yet another pastry on top. "If you had read your bible you'd know that I was trying to reach the gates of heaven."

"On a stack of pastries."

"A stack of very expensive pastries. I used only the best blueberry shortcakes."

"Blueberry shortcakes."

"That is what I said."

Kenshin crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe.

"Why are you building the tower of Babel, in my living room, out of blueberry shortcakes?"

Kaoru shrugged. "I ran out of raspberries."

Kenshin Himura stared in silence at the dark haired young girl worrying over her tower of crème puffs and cakes. He didn't fail to notice his distracted staff wandering over ever so often to check on her progress.

"I find I have nothing to say." He admitted inanely.

Kaoru cast her blue eyes in his direction.

"You don't like it?"

"God didn't like it."

"Yes well," She pushed another puff into place, "at this precise moment I am not asking about his opinion."

"I would never think to usurp God's opinion in any moment."

"A wise man," Kaoru agreed.

Kenshin laughed, prowling forward he easily caught her arm.

"You're a very strange girl mademoiselle."

She looked slyly at him. "Too strange to marry?"

"Not yet. Now are you going to tell me the real reason behind this …work of art?"

"Well that depends if you're sure you want to know."

Kenshin hesitated.

"Yes…" He said after a few moments.

"You don't sound very sure." Kaoru glanced up at him doubtfully.

"I was deliberating," He explained. "I'm sure now."

Kaoru scrutinized him. Kenshin stared back, the perfect picture of assurance.

"Alright then," she said finally, "but you might find this answer unbelievable."

"You're stalling."

"I am not stalling."

He waited.

She smiled.

"I was going to eat it."

Kenshin glanced from her to the monstrous tower. There must have been at least one hundred and fifty pastries.

Kaoru turned expectantly towards him, waiting for his reply. It would probably be along the lines of:

'_You're going to eat all of it?'_

At which point she would answer. _'Yes, all of it.'_

He might then respond with a witty and profound, '_All of it?_' Just in case he heard incorrectly, or had the ridiculous notion that she was willing to share.

So it was with great surprise when the Marquis of Darcia said neither of those things. Giving her a wry look he asked instead, "Do you always play with your food before you eat it?"

Kaoru laughed.

"You're not going to ask me if I plan to eat all of it?"

"Do you want me to ask?"

The young woman shrugged.

"Not in particular."

"Well in that case, are you planning to eat all of it?"

"Why?" Kaoru narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Do you want some?"

The corner of Kenshin's mouth twitched. "And what if I did?"

Kaoru wagged a finger at him in warning. "You will discover that you have made the very poor choice of marrying a miserly bride."

Kenshin crossed his arms over his chest. Cocking his head to one side, he looked down at her through the long red strands of his bangs.

"You have a thousand pastries and you're not going to share with me?" He asked with just enough incredulous disapproval and self righteous outrage to make any miser hand over their extra goods sheepishly.

"Of course not." Kaoru said, unruffled, clearly an above average miser. "Besides, I don't have a thousand pastries, only two hundred."

Kenshin raised his brows. "You're going to eat two hundred pastries."

Kaoru nodded enthusiastically. "I am going to eat two hundred pastries."

Kenshin glanced at the tower then back at her with a strange look on his face. "Do you always eat two hundred pastries?"

"No, usually just five. Two is not enough and four begs for one more." She paused. "You're still looking at me strangely."

"Why," the Marquis asked in infinite patience, stressing the word longer than necessary, "are you going to eat two hundred pastries?"

"It's delicious."

"Five is delicious."

Kaoru sighed, beleaguered.

"What is it that you're asking?"

Kenshin looked at her.

"Why are you eating a thousand—"

"Two hundred." Kaoru interrupted. "There's only two hundred."

A muscle twitched underneath Kenshin's left eye.

"Beg pardon mademoiselle, why are you eating two hundred pastries?"

Kaoru glanced at him.

"You truly want to know?"

"I can't imagine anything else I desire more at this moment."

Kaoru cocked her head to one side. "Really?"

Kenshin sighed. "Yes, a thousand times yes."

"Well." Kaoru began. "Promise not to laugh?"

"No."

Kaoru frowned. "Then I won't tell you."

"Well in that case, I'd have to take drastic measures."

Kaoru raised a brow at him. "I can't imagine anything you could possibly do that will make me want to tell you." She thought about it. "Actually, I take that back you could--"

"I could have the staff eat your tower of pastries."

The dark irises of Kaoru's eyes widened. She stood up, a perfect picture of outrage.

"You will do no such thing!"

Kenshin grinned unrepentantly. "I saw a few of them eyeing your tower with fervent longing. You wouldn't want my staff to work fervently longing for something only an arms' length away would you? Not even you are that cruel."

Kaoru sat back down, crossing her arms petulantly.

"I hope you know this is blackmail." She accused sourly.

Kenshin smiled. "I prefer to call it reasoning."

Kaoru snorted.

Kenshin looked at her expectantly, nodding towards a passing servant who had popped in to check on Kaoru's progress.

"See? A fervent long-er as we speak."

Kaoru rolled her eyes.

"You cannot use long-er as a noun." She paused. "You can't use it as anything! It's not even a word."

Kenshin shrugged. "If I say it's a word, I'm sure I can get it added into the official dictionary."

"That is clearly a blatant misuse of power."

"Nonsense, I'm enriching the French language."

Kaoru laughed. "You're incorrigible."

"That's a big word."

"And I didn't even have to force it into the dictionary, imagine that." She smiled sweetly.

Kenshin grinned at her, glancing meaningfully at the pasteries.

"Alright fine!" Kaoru threw up her hands. "I'll tell you."

"The angels are singing."

"Shut up your grace." She said ungraciously.

Kenshin gently poked her forehead with the tip of his finger.

"Impertinent wench, I'll have you know that men have died for a slighter offense."

"Yes." She said dryly. "I am aware of such dangers. In anycase," she continued before he could interrupt her again, "it is my wish to gain about three stones before the party."

Kenshin blinked at her, not comprehending. It was under his impression that young misses of Kaoru's age were exceptionally aware of their figures. It was also his impression that no young miss wished to expand three times their current size for any reason; especially not by the way of crème cakes.

"Er—" He said intelligently.

"I am making a fashion statement." Kaoru continued amicably, as if she was explaining a very simple concept to a daft child.

"And what statement is that?"

"Have you ever seen a warship sir?"

"Er—Have you?"

"Well no," Kaoru admitted sheepishly. "But I hear they are HUGE."

"They are." Kenshin agreed, not seeing how this mattered to the conversation one way or another. Perhaps the girl was simply crazy.

"Well my statement is that BIG is beautiful."

Kenshin choked on his laughter.

"Beg pardon?"

"You don't think so?" She asked, crestfallen.

"I think that you, Miss Kaoru Kamiya are a weasel."

Kaoru gazed at him in shock. "A what?"

"A small rodent like animal that is dishonest and sly."

"I know what a weasel is." Kaoru said annoyed.

"Well in that case Miss Weasel Kamiya, were you or were you not trying to sabotage your part in accompanying me to the ball?"

"Not!" Kaoru exclaimed.

The silenced lapsed between them.

"Maybe a little."

Kenshin crossed his arms.

"Alright maybe a lot." She allowed. "But you never said I couldn't eat desserts to gain unslightly weight."

"No," Kenshin's lip twitched. "But if Aoishi Shinomori didn't do you in, I can't imagine death by pastry is a more honorable way to go."

"I'm not going to die."

"Your stomach will explode."

"It will not!"

"Yes it will, and I hear it's very messy."

And so, it was with great disappointment at 4:15 in the afternoon when the scuttle maid snuck by to discover that no progress had been made to the tower of pastries. Instead, the mistress and the master of the household were locked in heated battle concerning who could eat more pastries, and when the other in question would explode.

* * *

Dear loving and loyal fans,

I am very sorry this chapter is so late. Please forgive me—and thank you very much to those of you that have written to me with polite and plaintive inquires about the (non)progress of my work. This chapter is dedicated to you.

In efforts to put this chapter out quickly, I am going to just briefly answer some questions that I have seen come up. First of all, in case any of you are wondering, this story is set in the early French empire. Think… 'Ever after.'

Also, I do know that Misao's hair is red. I should, I wrote it. It will be explained I promise! No squirming until then.

Thirdly, this piece is intended to be a comedy so I will be using the extremes of situations.

And last but not least. I do love Tomoe. I think she is a wonderfully complex character. BUT! This piece is supposed to read like a fairytale. The way I approach fanfiction is very much like a movie script. The canon universe is my cast of actors that I choose from. They may or may not reflect who they are in the real story. This I apologize for—but there's no getting around it. Tomoe is evilly evil villainess in this story. Not because I hate her, misunderstand her, or think Kaoru is better for Kenshin. I used her because she is the other obvious love interest. Megumi does not have enough "oomph" because Kenshin never liked Megumi.

That's it.

Until next time. A big thank you to everyone, and forgive the laziness—I will respond to you all individually next chapter I promise!

~Li Laine


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